Chapter Text
If anyone talked about Roxas, they’d say he’d adjusted well, that he was living his new life to the fullest. But to Roxas, the water was lapping at his neck, washing over his face, shoving its way down his throat, burning into his lungs. Only it wasn’t water. It was his own emotions.
It was overwhelming being reborn into a strange world where negative emotions, the dark feelings in your heart, manifested as creatures. A person’s inner demons come to life. One didn’t even need to give their heart over to the darkness first.
They started tiny, a faint wisp, and for most people, they stayed harmless. A brief annoyance. However, the more a person tried to hold them in, to hide their feelings, the darker they became. They started doing damage. They grew from being wisps into creatures.
People called him Roxas, but he could hear the whispers. The mentions of names like Ven, and more often, Sora. Sometimes they flat out said it to his face.
Has anyone ever mentioned you look so much like Sora?
Are you going to be helping work on the art project with Sora?
You’re so helpful, just like Sora.
It was usually always ‘like Sora’ this and ‘with Sora’ that. He just wanted to shout, scream until he was red in the face, until his throat was raw, until they realized that he wasn’t Ven's twin. He wasn’t a part of Sora. He wasn’t a clone.
Until they realized that he was Roxas.
A grey wisp fluttered up from his chest, hovering around his face. He swatted at it, watching as it snaked through his fingers, briefly broken apart, before reforming. It stung angrily, lashing out with a solid tendril. His hand went through it, violently this time, scattering it into the air. Comments kept running through his head and another wisp drifted up.
The comments were what had driven him to hide in his apartment. If he never left, no one could compare him to someone else. He laid on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito, barely moving save for the arm that poked out to swat at the wisps, only half watching the movie. His phone laid forgotten on the table, unread messages in the high fifties. The only messages he opened anymore were the ones from Axel.
The next wisp snuck close, almost caressing his cheek before it stung.
Axel—never Lea—was possibly the only one who had let nothing slip. He was the one that Roxas knew best from his previous life. But Axel was just so happy, and Roxas was so… not.
In the beginning, it had been simple. He’d happily turned down the offer of a therapist or counselor. He had his emotions well under control, thank you very much. Almost effortlessly, those that had been a part of the battle had tugged him into the group. They went out from time to time, discussing their feelings, talking over the reasons for their wisps, and keeping them under control. Roxas had been happy, talking with his friends some days. Other times, he’d sit with Axel and they’d talk about their newfound feelings and emotions. Their new lives.
Emotions were plain at first. Easy.
Roxas was happy because he had ice cream with Axel.
Roxas was sad because the restaurant didn’t have his favorite food.
Roxas was hurt and angry because yet another person had compared him to Sora.
But things only got more complicated from there. He would get angry and upset when Axel went to hang out with Isa. He found his heart racing when Axel would pull him into a hug. His palms would get sweaty when Axel would lay his head in Roxas’s lap when they hung out and watched movies. His hands would shake when he’d run his hands through Axel’s hair.
It was always involving Axel. And he didn’t know why.
But by then, he was too shy, too embarrassed to ask about things at that point. He was afraid people would look at him like he was stupid, that they would tell him he should already know these things. After all, emotions were simple.
Right?
His hand shot out to crush another wisp.
The sound of the doorbell startled him, the soft ding-dong echoing, bouncing around in his head until it was loud enough to drown out his thoughts. He moved automatically, pulling open the door and staring up at the lion himself.
Axel blustered by him, already talking, throwing his hands around in loud gestures. When Roxas turned back, pushing the door closed, it felt like Axel’s very presence swallowed up the room, taking up every ounce of space until it was just the two of them. It was simultaneously comforting and unnerving. Another wisp fluttered out before he could stop it.
Axel swept across the room in long strides, stopping far too close, long fingers easily dispelling the creature.
As Roxas looked up at him, his heart thundered. The room shrunk to where the walls felt like they were closing in around him.
“What’s up?” Axel studied him, concern written across his face.
Roxas’s gut twisted at the worry he was causing Axel, and he caught the subsequent wisps, shoving them deep. “Nothing,” he muttered.
The look that Axel gave him made him wither. He turned away, biting down on his lip and taking a few steps back. He was desperate for space between them. It was as if a giant fist had wrapped around his chest and tried to squeeze him to death. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Axel swiped through the tiniest wisp of his own.
“Seriously, Rox. Something’s up. That wisp wasn’t small.”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” he waved a hand, unable to meet Axel’s eyes. He didn’t want to share that his feelings for Axel were what was causing the wisps. Axel was the one person he still regularly talked with. Roxas didn’t want to scare him away. “Someone just called me Sora again.” He’d thought it would be the safe thing to say. That it would be true enough to stop Axel’s concern. But somehow, he'd forgotten just how much Axel let his emotions lead him.
“Oh, Roxas.” Axel’s arms wrapped around him. Warm breath tickled through his hair, making his scalp tingle. He could only hope that Axel wouldn’t notice how fast his heart was beating. “I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”
“I’ve told you, I don’t need you going around beating up people with your keyblade. You wouldn’t get anything done.” He was safe telling jokes, making Axel’s rich laugh fill the room. But this time, instead of letting Roxas go, he held on tighter.
Roxas swore for a second that Axel’s lips pressed against his scalp, and the sheer happiness he felt in that second tore through every demon shoved deep down. Axel pushed away, though. The space between them, inches, in reality, stretched out into miles when Axel reached up and ruffled his hair before mumbling, “I appreciate your concern, kid,” and moving for the couch.
He swatted away the tiny wisp behind Axel’s back. Of course, he was just overthinking things again. He was a kid to Axel. A fresh-faced eighteen to Axel’s twenty. That was all. He wouldn’t be the one to cause Axel’s stomach to do flips, to make his heart race. No, that was something only Roxas was going to feel. His hand moved through the next wisp without thought. It stung his wrist, and he yelped.
Axel whirled, the concern back on his face in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“Just… stubbed my toe.” Demons shoved down, he had to fight the urge to press his hand to the spot over his heart. Instead, he forced a smile.
Axel studied him for another long moment, eyes flickering to a point just over his shoulder before he smiled back. “Ok then, come watch the movie,” he patted the spot next to him.
Roxas sucked in a deep breath before joining him, trying not to freak out when Axel’s arm dropped across the back of the couch, right behind his shoulders. He tried to keep his face even, his breathing calm when later, Axel’s head laid across his lap and brilliant green eyes stared up at him with a smile as he ran his fingers through Axel’s hair.
And he tried not to overthink it when Axel’s hug almost lingered at the end of the night.
Roxas hated himself.
He hated Axel.
No, he couldn’t kid himself. That second thought was a lie. After that night, Axel seemed to want to get Roxas out of his apartment. He found that he couldn’t say no to Axel and kept agreeing to more of Axel’s silly plans. He dragged Roxas out with friends, trying to get him to socialize, to share.
Axel loved to drag him up to the clock tower and they would sit there, watching the sunset side by side, talking about simple emotions until the light had faded away, leaving them in darkness.
As the stars twinkled to life, the air between them came alive, crackling with static energy. Roxas would scoot closer and closer until Axel’s arm settled around his shoulders.
Sitting there, tucked back on the tower with the weight of Axel’s arm around him, demons were a distant memory and Roxas could be happy. It was easy at first.
But as time continued to pass by, he often caught himself staring up at Axel’s lips in the faint moonlight, wondering what Axel would do if he just stretched up…
“Penny for your thoughts, kid.”
Kid. That one word was always enough to send Roxas crashing back to reality. It was slipping through thin ice. The plunge chilled him, making his body break out in a cold sweat. His chest would writhe with the demons that instantly sprang up, making it hard to get a full breath as he pushed away, making some silly excuse or sharing some random thought.
He tried to pull away, to go back to hiding in his apartment, suffering in silence. But Axel didn’t seem to want to let go. He stuck around Roxas like a lost puppy, and he couldn’t figure out why. He was still too afraid to ask. He didn’t want Axel of all people to think he was stupid. He hated himself. And the spiral continued.
He realized how out of things might have gotten when Axel was over one evening for dinner.
They stood in his tiny kitchen. Axel chatted his mile a minute while Roxas focused on whatever he had in the skillet. But Axel fell silent when he’d reached over to grab something from the spice rack.
“Rox, what’s this?” Axel’s hand shot out, catching him by the elbow. Gentle fingers traced up the gash on Roxas’s arm that must have poked out from under his shirt sleeve. A wave of ice washed over him at the look of concern, the look of care on Axel’s face.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered, swatting the spatula at Axel before yanking his arm away and turning back to the skillet. “I was just clumsy.”
It wasn’t a lie. He had been clumsy. He’d stumbled over his feet in the park as he fought with his demons late into the previous night and earned four long scratches, three up his back, wrapping over his shoulder, and the fourth up his arm. He didn’t want to worry his friends and admit that his demons weren’t merely wisps anymore, that he was now fighting small shadowy creatures with claws that tore through flesh like a knife through butter.
He bit his tongue, holding back the shout of pain when Axel’s hand clapped down on his shoulder, right on his injury.
“I swear, you’re the clumsiest keyblade wielder out there.”
Jokes. Roxas could do those.
“You’re one to talk, long legs.”
It only kept getting more difficult to keep up the act.
He began to regret hanging out with Xion next, and she was the closest thing to a second best friend he had.
“Roxas, what happened to you?” A hand touched the welt on the side of his neck. Xion looked like she was about to faint.
“Something stung me down at the beach.”
He nearly screamed when she wrapped an arm around his waist, fingers pressing into the bruise that covered nearly half his side.
He’d found out the hard way that for shadow creatures, when they flung themselves at Roxas, they packed a heavy punch.
“You’re sure that’s all?”
“Yeah,” Roxas forced a smile. “Promise.”
Her eyes went wide as she stared somewhere just over his shoulder.
“Come on, Xion. You know how those jellies are.”
“Yeah,” her laugh rang hollow. “Yeah, I do.”
Then, it got to a point where he loathed being around Sora, but Axel and Xion seemed to enjoy hanging around, so he stayed for their sakes.
He tried to ignore how Sora was staring just over his shoulder as they talked. Roxas felt a rush of cold and leaned back against the wall, suddenly out of breath. He couldn’t hear for a moment over the rushing of blood in his ears.
“Roxas? Are you ok?” Sora reached out a hand, only for Roxas to smack it away.
“I’m fine,” he breathed. He hated how winded he sounded. He forced a smile, looking at the concerned faces surrounding him. “I just got a little light-headed. Guess I should have had more for lunch.”
“You need to take better care of yourself, Roxas.” Xion’s voice was soft as she reached out a hand to touch his arm.
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to.”
They all knew it was a lie by that point. None of them wanted to mention the shadow they could see over Roxas’s shoulder, not when it had just become substantial, reaching out to stroke at his cheek with an inky tendril right before he’d gone chalk white.
Roxas knew they worried. He knew his presence caused his friends’ pain, but it was almost like he was in too deep to go back to hiding. His feelings kept building, spiraling down and down in a self-perpetuating cycle of self-loathing. Of not being able to claw his way out of the hole he’d fallen into on his own.
It became almost worse when Axel was around.
Sometimes, Roxas almost felt like there was something there. That he could just stretch up and kiss Axel on the tower. That Axel would respond by kissing him back instead of pushing him away and calling him a kid. But Roxas didn’t. He didn't want to ruin things. He continued to be a coward.
Until it finally boiled over one night.
They were up on the tower as always, Roxas caught up in staring at Axel. But Axel then looked down, hand coming up to touch Roxas's cheek for a brief second. His name was a whisper on Axel’s lips and Roxas leaned in. Green met blue, and for one moment, Axel’s gaze had flickered to his lips. And then Axel was leaning in. Roxas’s heart soared.
Only to be crushed flat when Axel pushed away, rising to his feet.
“It’s getting late,” he muttered as he stared out over the town.
Roxas couldn’t move. It wasn’t an ice bucket this time. It was one of Axel’s fires, coursing through him, burning him with shame. How could he have been so stupid? It felt like someone reached in and ripped his heart out, tossing it off the top of the tower.
Demons immediately swooped in, taking up the space left, writhing and filling him with a fury. Not at Axel—he could never be angry with Axel—but at himself, for letting himself forget that he was just a child to Axel. For letting himself have that hope.
He’d almost flung Axel’s arm away when it came around his shoulders, almost shoved him back and told him to go away. But he didn’t have it in him.
Axel walked him back to his apartment, and they stood there chatting for a few minutes. Hope muted the demons long enough for him to get brave.
“Do you… want to come in?”
Axel’s eyes grew wide, and just when Roxas was thinking he was going to say yes, he took a step back, hand going through his hair in a nervous gesture that Roxas had seen a million times.
“I’d love to… but…”
The hesitation was enough for Roxas. He turned, hand going to the knob. “Well, good night then, Axel.”
“Wait,” Axel called after him, shouted almost as he lunged, grabbing and catching him by the wrist halfway through the door.
“What do you want, Axel?” Roxas’s voice came out harsh. He wasn’t sure if he meant the hand grabbing, or whatever their relationship was or wasn’t at that point.
“I just…” Axel pulled him in with surprising force, yanking him against a solid chest. Arms wrapped tight around him, warm and safe feeling. “Good night, Roxas.” Axel’s breath was warm in his hair, and it felt like his entire body flushed when he wrapped arms around Axel in return. Unmistakable lips pressed into his hair before Axel walked away, never looking back.
Good night?
Why did it feel like goodbye?